


My heart beats like clockwork

by codesable



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: I suffered writing this you have no idea, I'm so sorry for this, Other, Trans Gladion, Trans Male Character, angsty, based on kin memories rip, cos im gladion, forgot to mention that, the pain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 17:18:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8762047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codesable/pseuds/codesable
Summary: He hadn't come in expecting to find a family.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhh this is my first work that I've really posted on the internet, sorry for it's shortness!! Expect longer chapters in the future.

Gladion had been afraid for most of his life. Afraid first of the dark; a simple fear that was never truly overcome with age as it was in most children. And then it was his mother. After that, it was being alone. He had been afraid that Null would get hurt. He had been afraid that he wouldn’t pass. He had been afraid for a long time, indeed. He had never grown out of fear, as so many people had told him he would. He had never seen it as anything other than self-preservation. A way to stay safe. If it was something bad enough to fear, it was something bad enough to hurt him. Right now, he felt that fear. Fear that the man sitting across from him was going to strike him or hurt him in some manner.

 

He looked rather scuffy, and his expression wasn’t at all kind. He dressed like someone who didn’t particularly appreciate the wellness of others. (The difference between them was that Gladion dressed as if he didn’t care about himself - which he didn’t). He was glowering down at the boy as if he wanted to harm him. At least, that was Gladion’s initial thought. It took him several moments to realize that this was just his neutral expression. The man swung his hand out and the younger boy flinched, backing up further against the cold stone wall that he’d been sitting against when this man had walked up to him. All that Gladion had heard was the patter of raindrops against the ground and on his clothes. This man hadn’t said anything yet. This changed, however, when Gladion realized that the man hadn’t touched him. 

 

“You look like you’re freezin’. And honestly, did ya think I was gonna hurt ya or somethin’?” He spoke in a laid back tone, often using shorthand terms and speaking half-words. “Come on. I don’t know what you’re doing all the way up in Po Town if you aren’t part of Team Skull, but as bad as we are I’m not gonna make you sit out in the rain. I’m Guzma, by the way.” 

 

Gladion frowned, taking the hand that was outstretched to him (and had been for several minutes) and rising to his feet. He was silent, until Guzma spoke up again.

 

“Hey, are you okay? You haven’t said a word and you’re shaking real bad,” He commented. Gladion glared at the white-haired man.

 

“I’m fine. I’m not even shaking that hard.” He was blatantly lying, though. His wrapped his fingers around his wrist, trying to steady the tremors in his hands. It didn’t work well, but it was something. He was hungry and tired, and he wanted to take care of Null. Normally, he would have not followed this man to his strange home where a villainous team lived, but this was not a normal circumstance. He knew that if he were to stay out here in the rain and cold, he would die. He could hardly get up even now. Guzma seemed to notice this and hoisted Gladion over his shoulder. The child let out a squeak, slamming his fists into Guzma’s back. 

 

“What the hell!? Put me down!” He protested, squirming slightly. 

 

“Woah. You’re one light kid,” Guzma commented. It almost seemed like he couldn’t hear Gladion. Clearly, this man was good at ignoring people. He must have had a lot of practice. Guzma carried Gladion to a large, run-down mansion. Gladion pouted, brushing off his shoulders to indicate his displeasure with the ride. 

 

“What is this place? It’s more of a dump than half of these houses.”

 

“That’s my place you’re talking about. Welcome to my humble abode. In fact, welcome to the family. You wanted to join Team Skull, right? That’s the only reason somebody like you would be here.” Gladion nodded his confirmation, picking at a loose thread in his jacket pocket. 

 

“Yes.” He stated simply, blinking slowly. Type: Null wiggled in its pokeball, voicing its approval for the decision. Gladion was rather surprised; he had expected the pokemon to detest this. With a yawn, he followed Guzma into the run-down mansion. This was home now, it seemed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! Thank you all for the warm feedback! This chapter is significantly longer than the last, but post in the comments if you'd like more or less at a time! The shorter they are, the more I can dish out. Longer installments would be more developed, though! I hope you enjoy -- the sad parts are coming soon, so enjoy this sweet stuff while you can.

“Holy shit! He sleeps like a fuckin’ snorlax!” Gladion heard the call in a fuzzy, muffled tone through the surprisingly comfortable pillows and blankets that he’d snuggled deeply into the night before. Exhausted, the child hadn't even let Guzma feed him before begging to know where he could sleep for the night and going there. Gladion groaned, rolling over and curling into a ball. Who was that? His mother didn't talk like that. She was proper. She would never curse. Especially not to this extent. No, she could inflict incredible damage to someone’s emotions without a single curse word. Where was he, then? It didn't smell like home. It smelled like cigarettes and paint. His bedroom smelled like vanilla and strawberries because of the excessive amount of air freshener the cleaners used.

 

“Watch your fuckin’ language, Plum. The kid’s like, eight.” Oh, yes. Guzma’s voice caused Gladion to remember precisely where he was. Irritation sparked in the child’s gaze as he glared up from the mess of sheets and blankets that he had created. Pressing himself into Null’s warm body (he had let the pokèmon out of its pokèball for some comfort and familiarity in this strange new place), he stretched and replied sharply.

 

“Actually,” The words were slow and deliberate, stressed as if he was talking to a room of preschoolers. “I’m nine.” Where a nine-year old got the wit that he had, it was a mystery. Who had hurt him to make him so serious and reserved at such a young age, however, was not. Gladion tugged his white jacket over his head, revealing a similarly colored t-shirt. The jacket was rather effeminate, patterned in a white-blue with flowers and trimmed in the same color. Guzma looked uncomfortable for a moment, before lighting up.

 

“Do you pick your own clothes?” He questioned suddenly. Gladion made a face. Why on earth would he pick his own clothes? Lusamine picked everything out for him. He grunted and shook his head no.

 

“Yeah, well if you could pick I bet you wouldn't wear that girly shit. Yikes! That girly stuff, I mean.” Gladion just stared at him. “What I’m tryna say, kidlet, is I don't know if I should call you a he or a she or somethin’ else entirely.”

 

Oh.  _ Oh.  _ Gladion frowned. “I don't know.” He said simply. “She? Probably? That's what mother calls me. That's what Lillie calls me. Unless we’re playing pretend. Then she has to call me he, because I'm a pokèmon professor that's a boy. I liked it when she did that. I was Professor Aether. And I was nice to the pokèmon. I didn't ever experiment on them.” He rambled, messing with the laces on his clinically white boots. It appeared that he'd fallen asleep with them on. “Why? Are you allowed to choose? Mother says we don't always make choices for ourselves. Like friends. And pokèmon. We never got to play like we were trainers even though we wanted to.” Perhaps he was sharing too much? His words were making Guzma look very angry. “Have I offended you?”

 

“The fuckin’ shit, man? Of course you get to choose! Everything is a choice! Whether you wanna wear white or black? A choice! What you wanna play? A choice! How many pokèbeans to give your pal over there? A choice!” Guzma swore some more, pacing back and forth. He stopped finally, crouching in front of Gladion, who was sitting cross-legged on the bed. 

 

“Why did you ask?” Gladion questioned. Guzma shrugged.

 

“You look like you could be a boy or a girl or somethin’ else. You’ve got that girly guy look, but at the same time, I didn't wanna assume nothin’. I guess I shouldn't really ask you such a tough question. You're little. Some adults don't know if they're girls or guys or nonbinary.” He ruffled Gladion’s hair, much to his distaste. “But you said you like it when you play pretend as a boy? Go for it. Man, I’d explain this shit to you but I’ll probably mess up. Think of it like a maril. Sometimes it evolved into a girl, even though it was a boy, right? It's kind of like that but with humans. Sometimes you're a girl in yer body but a boy in yer mind.”

 

Gladion just stared at him for several seconds. “I have no idea what you mean, but okay. Just call me a boy, I guess, since it makes me happy.” Guzma nodded, mumbling about how he ‘fucking hated parents these days’. He went to the closet and pulled out a jacket and some skinny jeans. “I don't know if the jacket’ll be small enough, but you can have it if you want. It smells kinda like smoke, sorry ‘bout that. And these should be your size? They’re hand-me downs from when I was a kid. No idea why I've still got ‘em.” He shrugged, tossing over the clothes.

 

Plumeria hadn't said much, mostly just observed up to this point. “If you need us, we’ll be downstairs.” She chimed in. “There's a kitchen down there, you'll be able to hear where everyone is, so don't be afraid of getting lost.” With that, she and Guzma left the room. Gladion pulled on the jacket and black jeans, patting Type: Null on the head after he did so. The pokèmon, taken by surprise, screeched and lashed out. Gladion let out a wounded cry, staring at the cut on his arm. The fabric of the jacket had torn near the wrists, and blood was seeping out of the injury. He returned Null into its pokèball, trying not to cry.

 

For all of his stoicness, Gladion was still a kid. He still cried when he got hurt, even if he tried as hard as he could not to. With teary eyes, he marched into the kitchen with his arm outstretched like a particularly unpleasant held item might be held. He looked Plum in the eyes, trying to look angry instead of plain hurt.

 

“Null scratched me!” He complained, hiccuping. Plum’s eyes softened for a minute and she barked at a grunt to make sure the eggs didn't burn. This didn't matter, really; the eggs were always burnt whether she did them or not. Gladion would end up cooking for the team at some point, and there would be no more burnt eggs. 

 

“Aw,” she cooed, taking his arm in her hand. “It doesn't look too bad. We just have to clean up all that blood and patch it up. Don't worry, little brother. You'll be okay.” She gave what Gladion assumed was supposed to be a comforting smile, but she was rather intimidating to Gladion and it wound up being rather frightening to him. He gasped when she pulled out the rubbing alcohol, protecting weakly.

 

“That'll  _ hurt _ !”

 

“Only for a minute. We gotta clean it up, lil’ bro.” She pointed out. “Listen, it ain't fun for me to see you suffer, and it ain't fun for Guzma, either. But you're gonna suffer a whole lot more if we don't clean it out.” Gladion shrugged, looking away.

 

“Ow!” He hissed, yanking his arm away. “I told you it would hurt! You're mean!” He cried, crossing his arm. Plum raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Guzma with badly hidden amusement. “Hey! Don't laugh at me!”

 

“Okay, okay, chill! Lemme bandage it up, little man.” She fish as she said she would, rising up from the kitchen floor and putting the first aid kid back in the cabinet they'd reserved for medication and other supplies. “Grab a spot at the table, food’s ready. Don't worry about the stuff being burnt, we’ll just have cereal. Again. For the seventh time this week. For the fourth week of the month. Because nobody here can cook.” She glared at the grunt good-naturedly, laughing a little bit. Guzma slid over and pulled Gladion into a seat next to him. 

 

“Introduce yourself, my dude.” He prompted. Gladion nodded.

 

“I'm Gladion. I'm nine-”

 

“Yo, Guz, what's with kid?”

 

“Yeah, dude, it's not bring your child to work day.”

 

“She's itty bitty!”

 

Guzma slammed a hand down onto the table, eliciting nothing further but silence from the group. “ _ He  _ is not my son. He will be treated as a member of Team Skull. He will live with us, and he will reap the same benefits as anyone else on the team. He has nowhere to go. How many of you escaped from abusive situations and came to me? Just because he's younger, he is no less abused. You should be thankful that he saved him before he had to suffer for as long as any of you.” Silence. “I thought so. If Gladion tells me anyone has treated him as less than a full member of Team Skull, I’ll shove my foot so far up your ass you’ll be tasting my toe jam for weeks. That's all.”

 

A meek collection of “Sorry, boss…” rose up and filled the room. Gladion dug his spoon into his cereal, glancing at the box.

 

“Can I do the maze?” He asked softly. Guzma just stared for a few moments.

 

“Fuckin cute…” He mumbled. “Shit man, yeah.” He passed the box over. “I don't have a pencil though. Sorry.” Gladion simply shrugged. 

 

“That's fine.”

 

Sooner or later, breakfast had been finished and dishes put away. Gladion hopped down from his stool, biting his nails anxiously. He missed Lillie already, and being without her was making him nervous. He could always turn to her when he had a problem. Now, though, he didn't have the same support. Plum and Guzma were there, but did he trust them? Of course not. They were adults. He hadn't even trusted Wicke that much. And he'd known her for years. He decided that he would hole up in his room, then. In his room, he was safe. Nobody would bother him or pressure him into doing anything like training or battling. He wanted to battle and make Null strong, but he needed the pokèmon to at least trust him a little, first. Right now, that trust didn't exist. 

 

“Oh my god,” Came the exasperated sound of Guzma’s voice. Darn, no alone time. “Play outside like a normal kid.”

 

“I don't have anyone to play with.” Gladion pointed out simply. 

 

“Shit! I'll play with you. Just don't hole up in here like some ghost-type.” The elder pointed out. He tapped his foot on the floor, thinking. “We could play video games. Like Skyrim. Wait. You're too young to play skyrim, aren't you? Eh. Who cares? It's not inappropriate.” The leader thought out loud, humming to himself in deep thought. Gladion shrugged, waiting for the guy to come to a decision. “Oh! We can play Pokken Tournament. How does that sound, buddy?”   
  
Gladion shook his head. Not at the moment. He clearly wanted to be alone, which Guzma wasn’t picking up on and it was starting to irritate him. “Get out.” He stated simply, turning to begin making his bed.

 

“What did you say to me?”

 

“I said to get out. I want to be alone.” He wanted to spend time with Null, and maybe cry a little bit. He couldn’t do either of those things with Guzma there. Guzma shrugged.

 

“Fine. But we show respect to each other here. If you can’t do that, you don’t have a place here.” He shrugged, leaving Gladion to himself. The boy broke down just then, though it wasn’t loud or boisterous. He shoved his face into Null’s fur, sniffling.

 

“I hate her. She did this. I just wanna go home,” He complained to the creature. It nuzzled him in a motherly fashion, cooing softly. It was okay, it seemed to say. As long as it was there, Gladion _was_ home. 


	3. Chapter 3

Hey, y'all!! I'm going to be away on vacation for a couple of weeks so I won't update then -- I'll try to write something while I'm gone, though!


	4. Ah

I'm really sorry for not updating! Depression has hit me really hard and I just haven't been able to keep up the way I used to be able to. I think from now on I'm going to work with short stories, drabbles and oneshots since it's a lot easier for me not worrying about updating stories on time. I'll update this occasionally, but not regularly. I'm incredibly sorry.


End file.
